Xavier and Olivia

In my never ending quest to waste my talents, I present another easy target for the snipers.

I was trying to pare this down for Literotica 750 Word Project 2021, but it came in at 751 words so I put it in the 2021 April Fools Day Contest.

Just troping along, as is my norm, as if I had a norm. Please read my profile for my stance on comments. Feel free to email suggestions or to start a conversation. Private messages work too

Justin Hayward: "I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind. It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind."

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My name is is Olivia. I'm currently sitting in the office of the lawyer who is handling the legal aspects of my husband's estate and will. Xavier left the world in tears much too soon. He was sixty eight when he died on the operating table. We had been married for thirty seven years.

Xavier was a few years into his medical practice when we were introduced. I was twenty two at the time. Some doctors ditch their first wife for a trophy bride. Xavier didn't need to do that as I WAS his trophy bride. I'd been our state's contestant in the Miss USA pageant. My ample assets stood tall, proud, and perky. I knew how to wiggle to cause serious discomfort in a man's groin area. When I talked, men's ears got stiff.

The magnetism between Xavier and I was unmistakable. I knew I'd have a good life if I married an up and coming brain surgeon.

With big boobs early in my teens, I learned how to fuck and suck in about every conceivable position. Didn't matter to me, male or female, I loved sex.

Married life was boring compared to what I'd left behind, but I enjoyed the fancy cars and living in a mansion. My wild side soon faded away. I was the main attraction at many charitable fundraisers.

What I hadn't anticipated was the loneliness with Xavier doing so many brain operations. Eventually I strayed. Xavier never suspected nor missed out on any loving. I still gave him top notch blowjobs. He wanted to titty-fuck and cream my face, but I told him that was degrading.

When I was thirty three, my world changed dramatically. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. A double mastectomy left me standing not so tall and not so proud. Xavier was there by my side, offering physical and emotional support. I've been faithful ever since then.

I became quite active in pink ribbon activities. Men no longer found me desirable, which made me hate them for being so shallow.

I left the lawyer's office with a package marked 'To Be Opened In Private'. I had mixed emotions about Xavier giving so much money to the pink ribbon causes.

The mansion was so lonely now. My high heels echoed off of the marble statuettes. They looked so stately, staring at nothing. It occurred to me that the paintings Xavier had accumulated all seemed to be depicting angst. Weathered faces lined with pain. I'll have to change those out with more uplifting ones, you know, flowers, rainbows, and unicorns.

Sitting with my glass of wine, I peeled open the envelope and poured out the contents. There was a letter and also several smaller sealed and numbered envelopes.

'My dearest Olivia

If you are reading this then you have outlived me. I enjoyed our time together. I won't say that I loved you as that died when I found out about your affairs. Envelope number one is some guy you called David.'

I stopped reading and ripped open number one. Pornographic images of David tit-fucking me and cumming on my face. I raced down the hall and emptied my gut. Oh my gawd! Xavier knew all along.

After rinsing with mouthwash, my wobbling legs led me back to the table. I resume reading Xavier's letter.

'Envelope number two shows you with Steve, your gynecologist. Looks like he needed a different type of probe. Yes, you were a very loving wife. My attorney told me "It would be cheaper to keep her."

I stopped reading and found number two's pictures just as damning. It took me a few minutes to dry my eyes. What a fool I was. When I regained my composure, I continued reading. I re-read it several times as if that would erase the searing pain in my heart.

'After I uncovered that liaison, I made Steve an offer he couldn't refuse. He'd lose his license to practice so what choice did he have? Envelope number three contains your mammogram. In exchange for my silence, Steve substituted x-rays from someone who really had cancer. You didn't. April Fools! However, it was you who made the final decision to have the pair removed.

Even without boobs, you were a reasonably good fuck. You either never knew, or perhaps never cared, about my affairs which started AFTER yours. Several allowed me to titty-fuck them. I still loved boobs.

Xavier'

My wine bottle shattered those statuettes into a million pieces before I calmed down.